


Spaghetti Dog

by Emyrldlady



Series: Pasgetti 'Verse [1]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 'pasgetti verse, Alternate Universe, First Meetings, Fluffy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 22:09:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2708504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emyrldlady/pseuds/Emyrldlady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil meets his new neighbors, on his back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spaghetti Dog

**Author's Note:**

> This was a quick prompt to try and get my writing mojo going. No beta all mistakes are mine.
> 
> synoaponga asked:
> 
> Prompt: Phil falls in love with the cute guy who lives on the same floor with a lovely child and a dog. (I am in need of fluff, sorry if it's not more original)
> 
> So this ended up morphing into a 'verse all it's own. I'm calling it 'pasgetti verse'. Just linking some fluff together.

“LUCKY NO!” was the only warning Phil got before he was leapt upon by a very happy Golden Retriever. His mail went flying right along with his leftovers from dinner as he landed squarely on his ass.

“OHGODOHGODOHGOD!! I’m so sorry, so so so sorry!”

Phil looked up at the man charging down the hall, an empty leash in one hand a diaper bag over his shoulder and an adorable dark haired toddler in his arms. The man came to a halt at Phil’s feet skittering on the open container of pasta now all over the floor being enjoyed by the dog.

The man put down the little girl as he got to his knees in front of Phil. “Are you ok? Are you hurt? I’m so sorry. Lucky, BAD DOG!”

The retriever turned to his owner from his new meal of spaghetti bolognaise with a hurt look. “No, don’t give me that look. You know better to run away when I’m putting your leash on you. That’s no way to treat your new neighbor. Stop now, no more spaghetti.”

Phil was still trying to figure out what happened to him. He looked around bewildered.

“I’m really sorry, he usually goes for pizza not spaghetti. He’s also usually not this bad. We’re still trying to get used to the new apartment. We had to get out of the loft in Bed-Stuy, Katie needs a room of her own y’know? Plus those stairs were dangerous for a 2 year old. I’m Clint by the way, here let me help clean you up.”  Clint rummaged through the diaper bag for wipes and began patting down what he now realized was an incredibly expensive suit. “Geez, I’m so sorry. I’ll pay for the dry-cleaning.”

Phil looked down at the mess that was his suit to the incredibly muscular hands and arms that were now rubbing pasta sauce into his tie, while one had rested on his thigh. “Um…” He was attempting for decorum, but considering his inelegant sprawl in the hallway he gave up and just started laughing. “It’s ok.” He smiled up into the bluest eyes he’d ever seen and received a bashful grin in return. “And I’m Phil.”

“I’m still sorry.” Clint blushed under the other man’s scrutiny. “Um, I could make it up to you... maybe buy you dinner?”

Phil’s smile widened. “I’d like that. But I think you’ve got more important issues at the moment. He nodded his head to where Katie was now playing in the remains of Phil’s dinner, covered in pasta and sauce.

“Aww, kiddo, no.”


End file.
